Red Debt
by REPTILIAN ARMY
Summary: It is said that some debts have to be repaid. Nothing is free in this world. But what if the debts are of red, warm blood? Shouldn't the loyal be rewarded and their lives spared... 100th Hunger Games
1. Chapter 1

**Avian Boole (15) Citizen of district five, Male**

The smoke had spread out in the entire sky, covering every bit of blue that might have been there one day. When that day was, nobody knew. But legend had it that District Five was not like this from the beginning. Once there had been gardens here. Green was not a sight that was astounding and the sky used to be clear blue. I was not alive then to play witness to these stories but they were nice to listen to once in a while. These stories about our past gave us hope, although we didn't know it.

As for me, I believed that District Five must have been different. After all, small doings of today add to big results of tomorrow. Or so I'd heard.

But today, the density of smoke didn't let me feel that it could be the case. I mean, no matter what your mood, the greyness of the sky would spoil it. The monotonous life... Sometimes, I got bored. No, I didn't work in the factory. Wasn't that what everyone assumed? That people in Five worked only in factories? Well, I could relate.

I worked as a help at a shop that sold pillows. Yeah, a pillow shop. It was a luxury that half the people couldn't even afford. But that didn't affect me because my job was to simply keep the shop clean and dust free.

As I combed my curly black hair, I wondered had it been better if I were born somewhere else. No, I wasn't trying to be demeaning, but I felt as if I was made for something more than cleaning a shop and taking out its garbage! Sometimes, I felt it would have been better to work in a factory. Risky job, certainly, but at least it meant something productive. Something better than sweeping and dusting.

I put on my aqua blue T-shirt that so matched my eyes' hue. The only difference was that my shirt was abundant in the department of holes, something at which my eyes lacked. Holes in shirts was a common thing in the Districts. Of course, if a skinny and pale boy like me was to wear this in the Capitol, I'd have earned a lot simply because people would mistake me for a beggar. But I wasn't a beggar, or so I told myself as I put on my tattered rubber sandals, I was meant to do something more.

No matter how much I'd be told that a District boy couldn't get better, I refused to believe it. My heart just couldn't accept it.

But what was that more? I didn't know, neither did my boss. He often told me that he was himself waiting for it, but I didn't get that.

However, as I walked on the dusty road, the smoke threatening to fill my lungs like a balloon, I wondered when exactly my time would come.

I hoped it wouldn't be too late...

 **Hello one and all! Welcome to this Partial SYOT! A big thank you for joining me here. This is Reader, presenting to you the prologue of Red Debt! So, I didn't reveal the twist in the chapter because it went a little differently and I was more focused on Avian, but I'll mention it here.**

 **There shall be no tributes from Districts One, Two and Four. Yes, there will be no Career Districts this time. I wanted to keep it a short story and hence this will help reduce the number of tributes in total.**

 **Secondly, you may submit to any spot other than 5M, 7F, 9M, 11F and 10 M. Hence, I'll be accepting 13 submissions only.**

 **I hope this doesn't turn you away from submitting. I have already completed four SYOTs on my main account and am writing a fifth. I have also finished a collab with my friend. So you can be sure that this will be completed.**

 **Do let me know what you think of Avian. If you hadn't guessed it already, he's our D5M. :) Let the submissions roll in!**

 **Have a nice day!**

 **PS :No, your tributes won't have such short introductions. This was just for the sake of the prologue. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Landon "Andy" Yeward (12) D7M**

"Hey Andy!"

I stopped in my tracks as I heard the voice call my name. I recognised the voice as Juniper's and groaned internally. Juniper was a tad bit clingy for my liking. But sometimes, one had to interact with those one didn't like. So, forcing a smile on my face, I turned around to face the skinny girl.

She grinned at me slyly and raised her hand for a high-five. I obliged her.

"How're you doing Andy?! We haven't talked in a while!"

"I'm alright, Juniper," I replied with a smile, "I've just been a little busy. Sorry..." And then I laughed sheepishly to add to my conversation the concept of genuineness.

"Aww, I understand that. We're getting heaps of homework these days!"

"I know right! Like, why do you give us all the work to do? You're the teacher, you should know stuff."

"Exactly! Who gave them the right to be teachers when they don't know anything about their subject?!"

"Aye, they term it as 'valuable classroom experience'. "

"Anyway Andy, are you like going to come tonight? To Maple's party?" she asked, leaving me genuinely confused.

"Who's Maple?" I asked, perplexed. I was in contact with so many people every day that I couldn't really remember all of them. Sure, I'd heard the name Maple, but when you look at it logically, anyone living here would know that name because like, you find a Maple in every nook and cranny. So it was only natural that I was confused when suddenly asked about going to Maple's party.

Juniper, however, looked at me as if she'd seen some other worldly creature. I shifted uncomfortably at my spot as her gaze bore into me. I didn't like to stand out or be perceived as different even for such small issues. Something suggested that I should know who this Maple was.

"Andy, Maple's our class representative," Juniper said finally with a face palm, "Like, how can you forget that? Hasn't she helped us a hundred times when we haven't done our homework?"

"Oh that Maple!" I exclaimed, slapping my forehead, laughing. "That Maple, I know. So where's the party?"

"It's that cottage near the fence. The one that's all run down and stuff."

"Isn't that a haunted house?" I asked in surprise. That particular cottage had no name, and nobody knew when exactly it came into existence. However, people who went there to cut wood often talked, in terror and with a lot of gesticulation, of sounds that were like screaming in nature, and the kind that just chilled people to the bone. There were also many stories related to it: how a young boy ventured into the cottage only to never return. How the body of an unknown girl was found in the utmost broken state, with her face all eaten up. I didn't know whether there was any truth to all these stories, but it certainly wasn't a very party-like place.

"Come on Andy!" Juniper said with a wave of her hand, "You seriously can't believe all that!"

I laughed at that, all the time thinking that I didn't want to go. It wasn't the best place, it was scary and frankly speaking, going anywhere near the fence wasn't a good idea. Peacekeepers came hard on anyone they suspected of trying to break away.

But then...

"How many people are coming?"

"Our class definitely is," Juniper said as she patiently waited for me to answer. I could see the exasperation in her eyes and her struggle to wait for my reply without saying anything.

If my entire class would be there, I had to too. I couldn't afford to be the odd one out. If they were all going, I would be under radar for not going. And being different wasn't nice. After all, people just didn't care for those who weren't like them. People who were different had survival issues in this country. To live, you had to be part of a group.

"Sure, I'll be there. What time?"

"Great! Party starts at 6. Looking forward to see you there! Bye!"

"Bye!" I said and waved at her.

As soon as she disappeared, I lowered my arm, the smile wiped out.

I didn't really think she 'looked forward' to see me, but I definitely was not eager to be there at 6 pm.

But what was said was said and had to be done. After all, I couldn't really risk not being part of the group.

 **Noora Oakwood (14) D7F**

I let out a deep breath as my eyes took into account the mess that the place was. Holding the broom tightly, I tried to understand how come the floor was this dusty again. I had just cleaned it and yet...

"May be I should just mop it."

Now that was a good idea but how could I leave so much dirt unattended? Shaking my head, I started sweeping the floor from the corner, trying to extract every single dust particle that I could. It was a tedious job as I tried to clean the room again. No matter how much I tried though, the floor looked only slightly better than before.

"Enough of this!" I cried out, hurling the broom across the floor, across the dirtier part of the floor, hoping that it would wipe out some dust in the process.

Silence. Absolute silence.

I tried to stare down the broom that was already lying on the floor like a dead man, willing it to rise. Rise. Rise... Rise!

"Up!" I said, holding out my arm. There was a story about a story in which brooms rose this way. I was desperate enough to try this trick. But when it didn't work, I forced my tired body to bend down and pick it up, all the while cursing my misfortunes. My back ached due to constant cleaning. I kept this place spotless, but what for? There was never a pay raise. It had been four months already since the last time I got a wage hike.

Moving my rugged hand, I started dusting everything I saw and closed the windows when I came nearer. There was no need for more dust to accumulate and make my life harder than it already was.

"Noora!"

The abrupt sound startled me to the point that I literally jumped, my hand clutched over my chest. And again, down went the broom with a thud.

I was angry when I faced Ms Elm. I was busy doing something important! Why did she have to scare me like that?!

"Goodness child, what are you doing here? Isn't it time for you to go home? Mrs Oakwood will be worried!"

And there evaporated my anger on the spot. No matter how much I tried to stay mad at Ms Elm, her gentleness just didn't allow it.

"I'm cleaning the room, ma'am," I replied, "I've to clean three more classrooms."

"But Noora," she said in that gentle way of hers that always calmed me down, "You've already cleaned the entire school thrice already! And everything's spotless! You should go home dear."

"But ma'am-"

"Come on darling. You've worked so hard already! Cleaning everything, attending classes and then again cleaning everything!"

She smiled at me and I knew immediately what I should do. I didn't like leaving things unattended or leaving them unfinished, but I also knew Ms Elm wanted me to go home and study. She saw a treat future for me and thought I could be a big person someday. For that, studying diligently was required.

I didn't earn enough to afford a good school. Good school. Now, education was definitely free, but what they taught in government schools was totally rubbish. There was nothing important in there. Nobody could become learned in this place by just attending school.

However, Oakland Education Centre was different. Firstly, it was funded by rich people, and the teachers were actually scholarly. Secondly, they taught things that could help a person, both in day to day life as well as professionally. The school had the maximum number of students who got admission in universities in the Capitol due to their talent.

I got to study here in return for cleaning and maintaining the building. There were others too, but they were lazy. Apart from free education Oakland also paid me, and I used that money to help my family.

Now that I thought of it, pay raise every four months didn't seem that bad.

"Noora?"

"Yes ma'am," I said with a grin, "I'll go now."

"Good. Take some rest and get down to study."

"Thank you ma'am."

And with that, I left the room, keeping the broom back in its place.

 **I know. I've just appeared out of nowhere. My sincere apologies to everyone who is reading this. Life is... Not hard, but certainly busy. But I'm sure you're not here to read my nonsensical rambling.**

 **So, what do you think of the tributes? I wrote Landon a couple of months ago. He was easy to write, and fun too. There's a lot of him that's yet to be explored. His submitter did an excellent job, as always. As for Noora, I didn't like the original idea of what she was supposed to be like so she kind of changed. XD**

 **As for the Victor, I'm sure many of you are wondering whether your character has a chance or whether one of mine will win. The answer is... Neither. :) I always have polls for my victors, and the winner usually wins. I give 50% weightage to my own thought and idea of who should be Victor and the remaining 50% to the votes. And, be assured, my 50% will definitely go for one of the submitted tributes.**

 **So basically my characters have a very small chance of winning and that will be the case only if YOU vote for them.**

 **... I'm hoping that made sense.**

 **Have a great day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Introductions**

 **District 12**

 **Drake Singlelock (17) D12M**

If I said that I was not afraid, I would officially be the biggest liar in the world.

The Reapings had hurt our family before, and what was the chance it wouldn't do so again? After all, it would be incorrect to say that more than one member of the family couldn't be reaped.

As of now though, the mess that was my sister sat across me, her blue eyes that so resembled mine tightly shut, as she rocked back and forth where she sat.

Two years ago she had been Reaped for the Games, Games that had been brutal enough to instill terror in every single heart residing in the Districts. Her friend had volunteered for her though. Now, it was unseen that friends would volunteer for each other, but their friendship had been special. It had been like a relationship between siblings where one was protective of the other to the point that it was almost parental.

My sister didn't want her friend to volunteer, although I would be grateful to her for all my life for saving my dear sister, and it broke my heart when she died. My sister though... The incident drove her to become a shell of what her former self was: kind, fun and joyous.

And right now she was worried, worried for me.

I reached out for her hand and squeezed it gently, before enveloping her in an embrace.

"Hey hey, I'm right here," I whispered in her ears soothingly, rubbing her back comfortingly. I knew it wasn't enough, but my sister needed to know that her brother was there for her in any situation.

Tears started trickling down her face, slowly as if river flowing down a hill. I gently wiped them away, before cupping her face in my hands.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked into mine, showing what I felt. Fear, worry, grief that were written in her eyes were etched in my heart.

"Drake... You'll come back for dinner, right?"

My heart constricted at her hopeful question. I didn't want to be negative, but I had as much chance of getting Reaped as anyone else did. Her face, full of hope, prevented from answering the question honestly.

" Sure dear, I'll be home for dinner."

"I'll ask mum to make something nice for you."

I wondered how it was possible, since we were so poor that we could barely get enough for a day. We never had anything other than porridge that was not always fresh. But I grinned at her and nodded vigorously.

"Sure! I'd love to have something other than porridge. Anything else will be delicious right now, honestly."

She smiled lightly at me, even if her eyes remained moist. It was an internal struggle to see her like this everyday, suffering for something she wasn't responsible.

" Okay now, dear," I said slowly, preparing myself for what would happen next," I need to leave now. A-and you too."

Her expressions changed faster than the movement of the Capitol train, and suddenly she was on her feet.

"Why the hell do we have to go?!" she screamed, her voice loud and shrill.

I too, got up hastily and hugged her even as she started sobbing uncontrollably on my shoulders. I patted her back sadly.

Usually, it was easy for me to talk to anyone and everyone, but when it came to her, I just found it so hard. But I loved her and I had to do my best to make her feel comfortable, even if it meant going against my nature and stand quietly as she cried on my shoulders.

"Come on dear," I said, releasing her gently, "We need to go."

She nodded sadly. There was no point in getting ready for the Reapings. It was an event to celebrate death and carnage. Not that we could dress up properly anyway. We were so poor we couldn't afford any clothes, and we were both already wearing clothes that did not have any holes. That had to do.

So taking her hand, I set off, hoping that I could indeed return for dinner even if it was porridge.

 **Naomi Chalk (16) D12F**

The girl with the sickly olive skin, and bags under her hollow eyes, stared at me, her expressions blank.

I started working on her messy hair, and as I quickly moved my hand holding the pencil over the paper, the hair started appearing on it, being the very image of the real thing. I didn't even know why I was drawing my own face but I didn't think on it much. Drawing was what I required right now, be it anything.

The Reapings were approaching in a couple of hours and I didn't want to think about it. There would be people there, lots of people, people who pretended to be something they weren't.

But at moment, it was the drawing that mattered, and it was complete very soon. I swept one glance over it and found that it was perfect. Now that it was complete, I had to stick it on the wall so that it could remain here forever.

But the walls of my tiny room were already covered wholly by various drawings, drawings of birds, animals flowers and even scenes from the Hunger Games. I looked around and saw the oldest one, a lake, and decided to stick the new one on it.

As soon as I was done, the door swung open and I felt darkness rise in my heart. I didn't wish to talk to him, or to anyone.

"Naomi, are you ready?"

My father looked at me sternly and I wished I could disappear behind my drawings. My tongue seemed to have stuck to the roof of my mouth, and so when I tried to answer, no words came out.

"Oh come on Naomi," he sighed as he entered the room, "I don't want to disturb you right now, but the Reapings are about to begin soon and I wish you take a shower today. Or at least clean yourself."

I looked on, terrified, as he sighed again in anger and stomped off, slamming the door shut behind him.

My breathing had hitched when he had been there, and it was still difficult to exhale after a few seconds of his departure. I couldn't hold my breath forever though, and slowly I let it out, panting as I stared at the closed door.

My father wasn't even bad. But I just couldn't react properly to anyone, no matter how hard I tried to. Sometimes, when I had my sketchpad, I could talk a bit. Drawing was certainly an escape, but it was incomplete.

I remembered how my mother treated me. I had a few friends as a toddler, and after she and dad separated, my mother gained interest in those friends. An interest so strong that she couldn't stop herself from comparing me to them and making me realise every second how useless I was. And then she died one day, resulting in me living with my father, who never had time for me.

But at least he provided me with my sketchpad and pencil whenever I needed.

"Look at the drawings," I told myself, and I gazed at them, each one of them, trying to find an escape from my thoughts.

But the Reapings were approaching and time was short. I remembered that my father had asked me to take a shower, but I didn't feel like it. So pocketing my sketchpad, I simply went to the basin full of cracks to wash my face and hands. Nothing else was required.

And now was time to go.

* * *

"... And our female tribute is NAOMI CHALK!"

I paled the moment she said my name. How-how could she? The very world around me was spinning. I had taken the trouble to come to a social gathering and had stood among so many people! Was that not enough torture?! Why me?

And suddenly I was down on my knees, drawing hastily on my sketch pad, drawing the escort, as my heart beat against my chest. Suddenly, Peacekeepers grabbed hold of me, and while I tried to free myself, recoiling at their touch, they carried me to the stage and set me down, where I started drawing again, working on her nose, even as my tears fell on the drawing.

The boy's name was announced, and I only caught 'Drake'. I couldn't focus on him much though, I had to draw. I had to draw!

"District Twelve, give it up for your tributes Naomi Chalk and Drake Singlelock!"

 **So hi guys. It's been over a year and I'm sure most of you won't be reading this. However, I want you to know that I'm really sorry for my absence. There were some personal reasons due to which I couldn't be here. I returned a month ago and was working on the story on my main account. Now that it is complete, I will work on this one.**

 **So, what do you think of these tributes? Thanks to the submitters for both of them, and I hope I wrote them okay enough. Writing Naomi is hard, I won't lie, but I really like her. I like Drake a lot too.**

 **Do let me know your thoughts if you read this. I've written this on my phone so please excuse any minor errors.**

 **Have a great day!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Introductions**

 **District Nine**

 **Wallace Vaguehart (15) D9M**

"Wallace! Wallace!" Little Jose cried as he reached the site panting. He stopped as he saw me sitting on the rusty swing, and promptly fell on his face. Rolling my eyes, I got down and pulled him to his feet.

"Yeah, Jose?" I asked politely, flashing a fake smile for which he always fell.

"The Capitol guys! They're here! At the mayor's place. They're going to have a district tour!"

"So?" I asked but then it hit me. As realisation dawned on me, Jose broke into a big smile as well. Cringing internally, I patted him lightly on the shoulder making him grin even wider than before, something I'd thought was impossible. Stupid little Jose was gullible, to say the least. A little gesture of 'appreciation' from his 'best friend' made his day.

"Thanks Josie," I said, trying to sound as sincere as I could, "The Capitolites will get a show they'd have never seen in their own home."

The boy nodded vigorously at that and then said he'll see me later before running off, but not before giving me a hug. As soon as he disappeared from sight, I tried to dust myself. That guy was dirty all the time. Untouchable in all honesty. But he was useful, very useful, and that was the sole reason I put up with his nonsensical clingy behaviour.

But right now, I had a really great opportunity to present my show. My skills… they deserved to be noticed and appreciated by the wide world. And right now, the sad reality of life was that Capitol meant the world.

I adjusted my magician's hat that covered by long black hair, and sweeping one glance with my brown eyes around the park, I set off for the hall where I practiced. No, it wasn't some posh place but just some kind of clearing that people usually didn't visit for some reason. It was perfect for me though, for here I could practice in silence without any external noise.

Upon reaching the place, I settled down under a shed that I'd put up to rest. The heat was scorching, and I honestly felt I was about to melt. I'd practice my fire tricks in the evening. Right now, I could end up burning myself.

Opening up my bag, I fished up some balls and a small stick. Putting on my metal blue cape, I threw the balls into my hat and then held it out. Carefully, I removed my hand from under it and the hat, the hat kept floating mid-air moving just a bit as I moved my hand back. Moving the stick, most people would call it a 'wand', I forced the balls to come out of the hat one by one. The three balls started circling the hat as I moved my wand and as I picked up the speed of rotating the wand, the balls picked up their pace too and soon what was in front of me was a blur of different colours.

The heat of the atmosphere helped, and soon enough the balls started to glow brightly. As I pulled my wand, the balls separated from the glowing loop, and then the balls multiplied, moving in the circle like before, sandwiching the glowing loop in between. It honestly was a spectacle, and if I didn't know how it was done I would be pretty amazed too. I thrusted my free hand forward and then upward, and the hat opened its mouth wide and swallowed the balls and the glow in one gulp. As I pulled my free hand back, the hat flew into my hand, its opening downwards. The balls didn't fall, and I put my hat back on gracefully.

The illusion with the balls was one of the crowd favourites, because nobody could ever guess how it happened. It was honestly just the paint that I had used on the balls. When they got heated due to friction they glowed and created the illusion of multiple balls.

I retreated back to the shed for a break. Illusions, fire, magic… coming up with new tricks was harder than what people thought. But there was a joy in performing these tricks, to show off to the world what I could do. After all, magic was nothing but fooling people into believing something that wasn't real and creating something really beautiful in the process. Anybody who could master the Art of Manipulation had a good life ahead, no doubt.

But there were more tricks to practice, and more people to fool. And so, without wasting any time, I got to work again.

 **Hero Demeters (18) D9F**

"What is it that you like?"

"Butter."

"Is it really what you like the most?"

"Yes."

"But why?"

I looked hard at the person questioning me, a man in his early forties who didn't know what to do with his life and hence became a therapist. The special thing about Thorn Ceres Vasez, the strangest name I had ever had the misfortune to know, was that he could not really work with people who needed his help. He had yelled at an autistic guy to get lost, demotivated a depressed person to the point that she basically left the only thing that she loved- dancing- and secluded herself to the confines of her house.

No, he was after _me_ , who was completely healthy. I had been upset one day, and my naïve mother had to appoint him to talk to me.

I decided to play along.

I was determined to have him quit his job at any cost. Even if I had to pretend like this all the time around him.

"How can you not like butter?" I exclaimed in shock, widening my black eyes, "Why would anyone need a reason to like butter?"

"Well, butter makes you fat."

"What's wrong with being fat?"

"It makes you unattractive!"

"Why does anyone _need_ to be attractive?"

"So you admit that being fat makes you unattractive?"

"No," I replied airily, "I'm just interested in knowing why being attractive is a necessity."

"Don't you want people to love you?"

"Are thin people the only ones who are loved?"

"You talk to much but didn't answer my original question. Why is that you like butter?"

"Butter is delicious. Butter can work as magic for the most boring foods."

"And how much do you like butter?"

"I like it enough to wish that my last name was Butterwell, enough to spend my life in a garden of butterflies, and so much that I always carry a butter knife."

He clapped excitedly, happy that he got something out of me. It took me all my will power to not roll my eyes, and to smile at him politely. The sorry excuse of a therapy centre that we were in comprised my grey walls that seemed to be on the verge of collapsing, and Mr. Vasez's enthusiasm at his assumed success was the only lively thing in there.

"Do you have a butter knife right now?"

"Yes."

"So, do you always have butter as well? So that you can cut it using the knife?"

"No, because butter can melt in this hot weather."

"Then why do you carry that knife?"

I smirked playfully at him. This was the moment I had been waiting for. Thorn had been eating my head everyday since three weeks, and was _so_ convinced that I was suffering from anxiety, that I was bipolar and that I had the urge to cut myself. I hadn't even said anything that confirmed his suspicions, and it was honestly funny how this man never understood mental illness when it was staring at him right in the face. He was, in a simple sense, a fool, and he was too foolish to even realise it.

I produced the knife from the pocket of my torn up jeans. No, I wasn't _very_ poor. I had purposefully cut the jeans, because it looked cool to me.

"What are you doing?" he asked, and for the first time I heard fear in his voice.

"Why? I will cut you because I want to cut something!"

"What the hell are you-"

"Come _on_ sir!" I giggled, getting up to my feet, "You _said_ you wanted to help!"

His eyes widened in fear, his jaw dropping to the cold stone floor. He stared at me as I started walking towards him, grinning from ear to ear.

"The s-session's ov-over!" he screamed, turned around, and ran, ran for his life.

I dropped the knife on the table and laughed, laughed so hard that I fell down on the floor, rolling on it.

"Well Mr Vasez," I spoke out, tears due to laughing still in my eyes as I looked at the grey ceiling, "I'll visit tomorrow again, and if you don't tear up your certificate claiming that you are a therapist, I will change my name!"

 **Okay, first things first, the second POV was not to offend anyone. It's neither mine nor Hero's take on mental health, in fact she behaves this way with Thorn only because he doesn't treat people with mental health right despite being a 'therapist'.**

 **Hi! I guess you didn't expect me to update it so soon, but since I already had Wallace's part written** _ **months**_ **ago, I thought I should finish Hero's part and put it up. I really liked Wallace, thanks for submitting him. I'll be honest, he was pretty hard to write, and if I messed up something, please PM me and let me know because I'm sure I did something wrong with him. As for Hero, I hope you all like her. She too, changed somewhat from what she was supposed to be, but not too much. Also her POV appears to be longer because it has mostly dialogue in it.**

 **Please let me know what you guys think of these two. Also, will it be okay if I combine train rides with introductions? I wanted this to be a shorter SYOT, and this would help things move faster. However, if you don't want train rides to be a part of the introductions, let me know, and I'll work accordingly.**

 **Have a great day!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Introductions**

 **District Eleven**

 **Alan "Al" Lavender (17) D11M**

The puppy looked at me through its large, brown eyes, wagging its short tail, as I scratched its neck lightly. However, apart from the wagging of the tail, it showed no other movement, and even the wagging was slow.

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

The little thing gave a bark, quiet, slow. I nodded as I continued to scratch its neck. I thought about what I had at hand to feed it. Maybe an apple would do, if I removed the core. I had a couple of apples in a pouch, and so I took out a particularly red juicy one. I also had a knife with me, just to cut the apples in case I wished to, and using that I began slicing the apple and giving it to the puppy. The little thing devoured the slices faster than I could cut them, and soon the entire fruit was gone. It tried to get the apple core that I had in my hand, but I gently pushed it away, shaking my head.

"No no!" I said firmly, "The core's bad for you. The seeds can make you ill."

The little brown puppy seemed to realise what I was trying to tell it, and to my surprise, nodded slightly before proceeding to lick my tanned face.

I laughed as I tried to get it off me, but the puppy was really energetic, and refused to give up. I didn't mind it because I loved animals, and I was glad I could be of help to the little kid.

"Hey Al!"

I looked up at the mention of my name, and saw my brother Calvin walking down the dusty broken road towards me, a smile on his face. The puppy jumped into my arms, and I holding it carefully, I stood up.

"Hey Cal!" I called back as he reached me, "Looking for me?"

"No, just stumbled across you."

"Oh."

The dog whimpered in my arms, and I laughed.

"Hey, shush. Meet him, he's my brother, Calvin."

"Hey there bud. How's it going?"

The puppy stared at him, as if regarding him keenly. I soothingly told him that he was a friend even as I started getting restless. I needed to get going now. The puppy let Calvin touch its back gently and soon it was in my brother's arms.

"I'm sorry Cal," I said, scratching my messy brown hair, "But this little chap was hungry and I had to give him one of the apples. You can take the other one."

"It's alright Al," he said, ruffling my hair with the unoccupied hand, "I know you'd rather give the a. the apple to this doggo here. We can share the other one."

"Cool, thanks Cal! Now, I'll rush home, because I've some homework to complete!"

"Run along little brother!" he said as I ran past him.

Looking back, I waved at him, before continuing down the road. It was uneven and broken and in urgent need of repairs, but it wasn't much of a problem for me. I was used to these roads, for they had been like this since forever. My small house came into view, and I barged into the kitchen, as that was what my house opened into.

My mother was cooking something, stew I felt, and it was honestly better than porridge, which was common these days. I sneaked up to her from behind before hugging her from behind.

"Al!" she said, without even looking who it was, "I've been looking for you! Have you completed your essay?"

"No," I said, grinning, burying my face into the back of her head.

"Will you do it?"

"No."

She turned around in mock exasperation, before hitting me on the head.

"Ouch!"

"Go and complete it you idiot!"

I laughed before giving her a quick hug, and left the kitchen only when she slapped my arm playfully and literally pushed me out.

I was hungry right now, but she was right. With a sigh, I went to look for a pen to complete that stupid essay.

 **Saffron Antonio (16) D11F**

There was one thing that was the most important in this world.

No amount of honour, love and anything could replace the significance of this thing. Its craze, its love, its importance, all of it were real.

Why, I was talking about food, of course.

There were people all around me who could kill for food. Many of us put our names for tesserae in return for food. And if that food was delicious… well, anyone could guess then what.

And as I sat across my friend, Carda, in her house, with all our friends chatting excitedly about random things, my mind wandered to what was cooking in Carda's kitchen. My friend was pretty well off and could do things like celebrating her birthday with good food and juice and sweets, and she had graciously invited us for the party. She was officially my favourite person right now, because food.

"Saffron, what are you thinking about?"

"Food."

"What?" Carda asked.

"I mean, good. I'm good."

"I'm glad you're feeling good, but I understand that you're not present here mentally."

"No no! I was present in class today! Didn't you see me?"

She laughed loudly at that, before clapping in front of my face.

"Earth to Saffron! Earth to Saffron!"

"Sorry," I muttered with a sheepish grin, "I was thinking about something and so I missed what you said."

"I got that. What were you thinking of?"

"I…"

It felt weird saying that I was thinking of the food that was getting prepared for the party. I could smell delicious things from here, the living room. And my stomach was growling, my mouth was watering. I swallowed some of that same water before answering.

"Nothing much dear. It's just great that you're seventeen now! And, well, I was thinking about how much you've changed over the years. How much I've changed over the years!"

"Oh come on Saffron! Don't give me that nonsense. I know you were mentally drooling over that chicken that's cooking."

"Oh, so it's chicken!" I exclaimed in delight, "You're my _true_ friend. I was thinking just yesterday about how much I _needed_ chicken in m y life! And here you are, my saviour!"

She narrowed her eyes as I gave her a kiss on the cheek. Now that she knew what was on my mind, why not just go all out?

"Gross!" she exclaimed as she pushed me away.

I chuckled at her expression, before raising an eyebrow.

"What _else_ are you getting me, B Day girl?"

"I'd honestly prefer _birthday girl_ to that," she muttered, her black eyes shining with mirth, "Anyway, we have a cake-"

"Flavour?" I asked, as my mouth started watering again, and the drool fell from my open mouth onto my lap. Carda, being my friend, ignored this show of sophistication.

"Strawberry."

" _Lovely!"_

"You say that for everything. Anyway, and there's flavoured rice-"

"I can _die_ for flavoured rice-"

"-and some nice tomato soup-"

"Tomatoes are _life._ "

"-and salted peanuts, which you haven't been eating."

"WHERE IS IT?" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet.

Our other friends all looked up at me and face-palmed collectively even as I looked around for the salted peanuts. Carda sighed loudly, but I didn't care. Peanuts were _everything._

"Are they roasted?" I demanded.

"Yes," she said, barely able to contain her laugh.

I should have been embarrassed, because I was at her house eating her food. But Carda was a friend, and she knew me well. She also knew I was in love with everything roasted, and so I paid no heed to her failed attemots at controlling her laughter. My aim was to locate the peanut bowl at any cost, and there I saw it, near Thorn.

"THERE IT IS!" I exclaimed before jumping, literally jumping, across the table, landing right on top of Thorn.

"Hey! Get off!" she grumbled as she pushed me off.

Without muttering an apology, I grabbed the bowl and started digging in, savouring every bit of it.

I looked around to see my friends laughing at my food-lust, and when I replayed the events in my head, I started laughing again, munching and laughing, because that was how it should be. And in a few minutes, the bowl was empty, and as clean as it would have been after being washed.

"Hey everyone!" Carda said, barely able to stifle her chuckle, "Especially Saffron. The food is ready!"

"LET'S GO!"

 **Hi guys! So there it is, our third introductions. What do you think of the two tributes here? Thanks for submitting Alan, he's a delightful boy, and it's going to be fun writing him. Saffron, well there's more to her than food. I'd love to know your thoughts. Also, sorry for the short chapter, but anymore would be dragging it. Again, Saffron has more dialogue, so her part appears to be longer.**

 **Merry Christmas everyone!**


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